


Backstage

by gabewritesnsfw (gabewrites)



Category: no - Fandom
Genre: M/M, NSFW, Please leave me alone, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-03
Updated: 2018-06-14
Packaged: 2019-05-17 19:27:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14837765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gabewrites/pseuds/gabewritesnsfw
Summary: What happens after a tension filled show? All signs point to risky backstage activities.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey yeah please don't crucify me

The recent T/W/R/P shows were going extremely well in Sung’s opinion. Some of the most riled up loud crowds, the most energy pumping through the room, and possibly the most fun he had ever remembered having. And it was no coincidence. 

Sung could feel how well the newly introduced act of Planet Booty integrated itself into the show, perfectly meshing with the already present style and somehow improving it. He especially noticed the energy when all of them were up on stage together, really feeling the best and putting on a show for the crowd. Sung was always a show-off, but with PB there- with Dylan there- he really learned how to flaunt. 

The extra confidence boost and the amount of chemistry meant that they could light a stage on fire with their heat, and send everyone home begging for more. No one could stop smiling while they blasted out tunes together, and Sung felt himself more enthusiastic after playing just a few shows with the whole crew together. 

And this one was no different. 

Dylan had stripped off a few layers already and Sung glady admired the man from across the stage they were performing on, his imagination running wild as it usually did. One thing Sung appreciated about having all this tension on stage, was that every sway of Dylan's hips couldn't make his antennae stick straight up and to the side when he was in costume. Dylan teased him to no end about that. 

It would be so easy to touch him like this on stage, play it up for the show of it all. He already could vividly remember every time that Dylan decided to land a smack on his ass, jerking him forward just a little and putting a lusty smile on his face. He was nearly drooling thinking about it...caught up in his thoughts when- thwack- Dylan was up on him and still holding a handful of ass this time. Sung may have hit a few wrong chords.

He also may have pushed back into Dylan's touch with no hesitation and covered his mouth to stifle a noise. He felt a shaky hot breath from Dylan. This was dangerous territory. He blinked a few times and focused back on the keys, this time playing it up. He swayed along with Dylan, and when he had a free hand he reached back to grab at the bulge in Dylan's shorts. Sung bit his lip when said bulge was grinding against him, finding an easy place to go when the only layers separating them was Sung’s thin body suit and Dylan's sweaty shorts.

They broke away before they could be touching for a suspiciously long time, but the audience was going wild, and Dylan's torso was glistening with sweat under the stage light as usual, but his chest was flushed pinker than normal, his head spinning while he performed. The smile on his face was contagious. Thank god this was the last song of their set. Sung felt his legs getting antsy, and his mouth watering as Dylan hopped around in his tight shorts on stage. 

When the show ended, last note of the song ringing out, pleasant smiles on the crowd, cheers filling the room, Sung and Dylan looked only at each other, something in their eyes communicating. Begging to get somewhere else. Sung did help wheel his equipment off stage, but as soon as Dylan found himself backstage too, Sung was pulling him to a secluded corner behind the stage they had just performed on. Somewhere he knew they shouldn't be. 

But when Sung’s back slammed against the sturdy door to an abandoned supply closet, He moaned out and pulled Dylan closer, lips meeting while Dylan's hands ran down Sung’s sides and made him shiver. His helmet was discarded gently to the floor. Sung’s hands held Dylan's face and the kiss was hungry. All the energy they collected on stage was pouring out against their lips. Dylan immediately grabbed under Sung’s thighs, hoisting him up against the door with a bang. Sung swooned every time Dylan showed his strength, but he had other plans in mind.

Dylan immediately went for Sung’s neck, kissing and listening to the man try to hold back noises that would tip off anyone backstage. Sung had half a mind to let him keep going, but he tapped his shoulder and felt at the two bruises already gaining color near his collar bone. Dylan looked at Sung with an evil grin. “You were getting feisty out there, tiger.” Dylan was out of breath, but he made a cheesy cat snarl of a noise, pressing another kiss to Sung’s neck. 

Sung just giggled, then stopped giggling when Dylan's hand over his jock strap made his stomach drop. “You- if you don't want me getting like that on stage maybe you shouldn't be smacking my ass.” Sung threw his head back against the door when Dylan started grinding against him, his senses a little overwhelmed. They weren't even doing anything yet, barely scratching the surface, but Dylan knew how to move. And even fully clothed, a thrust against him ripped a groan from his throat.

“No, I mean before that, darlin’, you've been riled up all show.” Dylan slid his hand up Sung’s chest, up his neck, and then cupped the side of his face, his thumb sliding against Sung’s lower lip. “Were you waiting for this?” Sung shivered, eye closed momentarily while he gathered his thoughts. After a deep breath he was look straight at Dylan, taking the man's finger into his mouth. He thought Dylan was going to drop him, but the look on his face would have been worth it. 

Sung’s mouth came off of Dylan's finger with a tiny pop noise. “Yes.” He hummed with his own satisfaction, making a show of licking his lips. “Are you going to let me do something about it?” Dylan nodded and gently let Sung’s feet hit the ground. Sung just smiled, flipping their positions so Dylan was the one against the wall. The alien wasted no time in getting to his knees and pulling Dylan forward by the waistband of his shorts. Sung looked up at him with a sort of innocent smile. Like he wasn't about to suck Dylan backstage. Like no one could run around the corner and find them. 

A warm hand was on Dylan through the shorts, and then down the front of them. There was no time to take the shorts off, so he just pulled Dylan's cock out into the open, looking around to make sure they were alone (as if it would matter by now). Sung started teasing, just the tip in his mouth and his tongue circling slowly. But as if on cue Dylan's hands were in the back of his hair, pulling him on farther. And of course he complied.

Sung knew his way around, and Dylan obviously appreciated it. Just a little farther and all Sung could watch was Dylan's face, the man out of breath above him tugging his hair lightly. It wasn't often that Sung got Dylan going like this, but Dylan was the one eager to keep it going. The held back sounds Dylan made were music to Sung’s ears, and he would have complemented them if not preoccupied. Sung himself was on cloud nine, lost in the heavy weight of Dylan on his tongue. 

Normally they could have drawn this out, and Dylan would have encouraged it, but they were slowly becoming more and more on a time crunch, knowing they had to get out of here.

A rushed rhythm meant that Sung was getting a little sloppy, and he added his hand to the mix for good measure, but he was quickly making a mess of himself that he couldn't pass off as stage sweat. Dylan gripped his hair tighter, more than ready to get off quick and easy after all the teasing during the show. Sung recognized this and hummed low around Dylan, grinning when the man's hips pushed closer to his mouth. 

Dylan squeezed his shoulder to try and warn him, but Sung didn't seem to have a care in the world, a pleasant hum ringing out as he took Dylan's cock all the way to the base, then man desperately trying not to cry out when Sung’s throat tightened around him and he lost it. Sung faltered for a moment, but he stayed right where he was, making sure they wouldn't have a mess to clean up. (To be honest, he stayed in that position longer than he needed to, mouth completely full and with no struggle. What a show off.) 

When he pulled away he had no trace of shame on his features, blinking a few times and then wiping the back of his hand across his mouth with a dazed smile. “Are we out of here?” He asked as if this were casual, as if they were getting ready to leave this whole time, but Dylan wasn't having it. 

“Oh no you don't-" Dylan pulled Sung up from the ground and readjusted himself in his shorts, pulling Sung against him and cupping him through his body suit. “We're not done here yet, pretty boy.” Sung was caught off guard and found himself burying his head in Dylan's shoulder, glad that the moan that left him was muffled. Gods- they didn't have time! They needed to get out of here and- 

“Mmmmm- Dylan…” Sung rutted helplessly into Dylan's hand, knowing there was no hope of trying to get out of his suit and then back in it to leave. This also meant he was completely aware that if Dylan kept this up he was going to have an awful mess to clean out of this suit. Dylan didn't relent, and this time he grabbed Sung’s ass too, smiling when all of the alien’s weight rested against his body. “Fuck!- Dylan! Not here, we can't…” Sung was blatantly drooling on Dylan's shoulder now desperate for more. 

“Sure we can, after what you did?” Dylan pressed the palm of his hand against Sung in a steady rhythm, hearing Sung’s sharp intakes of breath when the friction felt just right. He looked downright disheveled, his hair sticking up now. “You don't want to be all strung out on the bus.” Sung couldn't deny that, but he also made sure NOT to tell Dylan all the fun he could have teasing on the bus if he was strung out. They could save that for another, not so desperate time. 

“It's going to be a mess- I'm going to be a mess.” Sung whined, contradicting himself when he kept rutting against Dylan with a sense of urgency shaking a little and feeling warm all over. 

Dylan just chuckled, and Sung could hear the smile in it. “Sure will be, won't that be a sight…” Dylan did not relent, only escalating, knowing that Sung’s impending orgasm was going to hit soon. He could feel the alien’s reserve breaking. Whining, little short breaths, frustrated noises that said “almost there", and Dylan could only smile. “Give it to me, Doctor.”

Sung groaned into Dylan's shoulder and clinging onto the man tightly shuddering as he made a mess of the front of his suit, his antennae bending sideways out of his control. Gods...ruining another suit, the guys were not going to be happy after what happened to the last one. (Sung was too embarrassed to even speak of that one.) 

After catching his breath Sung bent over to grab his helmet, looking a little dizzy and definitely the type of mess Dylan wanted to make him. He couldn't deny he liked it. Dylan smacked him on the ass again to add insult to injury. Sung only wished they had time for more. Instead, he situated the helmet back on his head and tried to hide his blush. “Back to the bus?” Dylan grinned.

Sung blushed even more thinking about facing the rest of the band. They weren't going to let him live this down.


	2. Clean-up Crew

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The story of how Sung ruined the FIRST body suit that had to be tossed. (He has a bad repitation with the things.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uhhhhh  
> Im sorry djgjd

“Is it really a good idea to chug that down before we leave, Sung?” Meouch scoffed and turned his attention away from where Sung stood, outside the venue they had just performed. A fan had kindly gifted him a giant bottle of water for the road, but he had lost the cap and it was a pain in the ass to keep a drink from spilling in that bumpy as hell bus, so Sung stood next to the trash can, chugging the water before they shoved off for the next location. 

Meouch had his head in his hands for a moment before heading off to get the bus started, but before climbing the stairs he turned back with a sigh. “Hey!” Sung stopped chugging, about a forth of the bottle down, wiping his mouth with his arm. “You know the toilet is fucked right now, and we're going on the highway, so don't ask me to stop for your tiny bladder!” Sung rolled his eyes and went back to his drinking, motivated by a chorus of “chug, chug, chug!” coming from every other band member who liked having fun.

Downing the whole bottle, while a large achievement, was also a large pain in his gut, the kind that was common after working out and drinking water to cool down too fast. He needed to sit down. The bottle went straight in the trash while Sung smiled, the crowd around him cheering. “Time to get to the bus?” Sung burped from all the air he trapped chugging the water, and phobos dodged the air as to not smell the bad fast food they had eaten before the show. 

Dylan sipped from a comparatively tiny bottle of water while he made his way over to Sung, a smile on his face. It was almost like he knew something that Sung didn't know, and that made Sung take a moment to think. Without even a word from Dylan, he could sense something was up. “What are you planning.” Sung deadpanned, crossing his arms and shooting an accusatory glance at the man. 

Dylan was slightly taken aback, raising an eyebrow and chucking his tiny bottle into the trash. “What are you talking about, Doc?” He pulled a sort of leaning stance on the wall in front of Sung, boxing the alien in between himself and the trash can. Sung wanted to question, but he caught himself staring at the way Dylan filled out the tank top he had slipped into after the show (his suits weren't ideal for the weather). His arms looked nice, was he flexing? Sung wanted to watch him do that shirtless like he had been on stage. Was the tank top necessary? They could- “Gorgeous, what's on your mind?”

Sung snapped out of his dylan induced haze, blush rising to his cheeks. Thankfully his antennae were held in place by his helmet. For now. “You just seem smug, I don't trust it-" Meouch honked the obnoxiously loud bus horn to get everyone's attention, and it startled Dylan enough to make him turn around and laugh it off. 

“Is he always this pushy?” Dylan laughed softly and watched as Sung made his way towards the bus.

Sung just shrugged. “You get used to it- He's a real nice guy when we're not on a time limit- but don't tell him I said that.” Sung went on his merry way, not a care in the world and Dylan stayed in place, a look of confusion almost. 

“Are you going to take a bathroom break before we're on the road for- I don't know how long?” Dylan looked at the water bottle in the trash that Sung had managed to chug, and he was astonished that the alien wasn't already running to the nearest toilet. Maybe aliens worked different.

Sung waved him off. “I've been on tour before, I know what I'm doing.” Dylan rushed up to everyone else when he realized that the rest of the band had followed Sung to the bus. He took his seat next to Sung how they had come to the show and watched the alien get comfortable, obviously ready for the break from playing. Once the doors to the bus were closed he took his helmet off too. His antennae were relaxed- making it known that he was tired. But this seemed like a relaxed sort of at peace tired. 

He got this way after a good show. Dylan couldn't stop himself from running a gentle hand through Sung’s hair and watching him lean into it, listening to him hum softly. “So, good show, huh?” Sung nodded and started to take off some of his armor, debating whether or not he should go behind the little curtain they had installed to change into something comfier. He ultimately decided no, he was in too much of a peaceful state to disrupt it. He wanted to stay right there. 

His close proximity to Dylan played a part in the overall enjoyment of the ride, especially when he got to look at Dylan in that tank top some more. He ended up leaning against Dylan's shoulder and trying to settle in, not sleep, but rest. Normally they would talk or the whole band would get riled up and start some sort of singalong or joke that could carry through, but they were all a little too tired to follow through, and a content silence fell over the bus. Sung looked out one of the tinted windows briefly, watching the the sky and then the littering of chain stores they saw in every town. Travelling was fun. Exhausting, but fun. 

A bump in the road jolted Sung into a state of alertness that he chose to ignore. It would be a long ride and he would slowly get used to that. Until another bump came and he sat up a little restless. Dylan noticed and shook his own tiredness away. “You alright?” Sung made a sound like he was contemplating it, but then he bit his lip. He was fine. 

“Of course.” But Sung didn't find his place on Dylan's shoulder again, and he didn't regress back to the state of almost-sleep that the rest of the bus seemed to be in. Instead he tapped his foot, an uneasy feeling washing over him. “Just not tired.” Sung looked out at the road again, wondering how much time it did take to get where they were going. Not that he was impatient or anything. He was used to long rides. 

Along with the foot tapping, his antennae rose into a more distressed position, not straight up, but stiff and unmoving. His legs closed closer together. He felt a little...full. He nervously shifted in his space and hoped Dylan wouldn't notice. Sung was completely fine. “Are you sure- your stomach hurt or something? Carsick?” Dylan put the back of his hand to Sung’s forehead, then toyed with the hair at the nape of his neck with a concerned look on his face. 

Sung meant to say no, but all that came out was a little whine, not meant to hit Dylan's ears. Sung curled his toes a little in his shoes, legs clamped shut and body shifting in his seat a little too much to just be nervousness. And then it hit him, just like the water all dropping into Sung’s bladder at once hit him. Sung had to piss. And it was from that water! After Dylan had told him to take a bathroom break! Dylan crossed his arms and watched Sung get into a position to better keep himself together. “You've gotta piss- real bad.” 

Sung laughed nervously, wondering how long they'd been on the bus. He could wait it out, he'd made it this far. He could even keep his witty composure. “Not bad, it's just there. I'll be fine.” Sung bit his lip, shifting again. It was a little uncomfortable but nothing he couldn't handle. It's not like he was a little kid, he wasn't about to piss himself on the tour bus. He took a deep breath and looked over at Dylan with a smile that he plastered on. “So, how are you doing?”

Dylan rolled his eyes, resting a hand on Sung’s shoulder and looking straight at him. “We're not letting this go, you really have to piss, are you gonna make a mess of yourself?” Dylan seemed to have legitimate concern in his voice, but Sung let out a pathetic noise at the way he worded it, rubbing his legs together anxiously. 

“Don't...don't say it like that, Dylan.” Sung looked guilty, his antennae bending down into something that looked like shame. 

Dylan only grinned wider. “Oh, you like that?” His hand rested on Sung’s thigh, bringing a whole new level of anxious to the party. This man was going to kill him. He was going to die on the tour bus at it would be all Dylan's fault. “You do- or at least you like not having control- but I think we had that one figured out.”

“Dylan! I don't want to piss myself on the bus!” Sung spoke in a whisper yell, but it had a sense of urgency, and he was having a harder time holding back whines of struggle. Sung was not going to resort to the ‘I really have to go to the bathroom dance,’ he couldn't, but he was ready to. The hand Dylan had on his thigh was suddenly the biggest distraction in his life. 

“So you...want to piss yourself at home?”

“Shut your mouth, Dylan!” 

Sung took a deep breath again, bracing himself. His hands held onto the seat underneath him as if he were going to fall off. Dylan's hand inched slowly towards the bulge in Sung’s body suit, but he was sure that wasn't what Dylan was aiming for. “Why didn't you go earlier?”

Sung really had to concentrate to speak, wanting to reduce himself to little noises that he could hide easily. A bump in the road made him gasp so hard he had to cover his mouth. Dylan laughed. He laughed. “I didn't have to it just all-"

“It hit you all at once?” Dylan questioned with a smirk, hands sliding in between Sung’s thighs. This was a dangerous game they were playing here. Had to stay quiet. Dylan inched in closer. “How bad do you have to…” Dylan wasn't well versed in this, he didn't have much experience in the vein of teasing aliens about having to piss. But he knew a thing or two. He knew how to talk filthy about it. 

Sung let out a shaky breath, clenching his eyes shut when Dylan's hand slowly spread his legs apart. He couldn't stop his legs from shaking in response. “Very- it ah...this is pretty bad, Dylan. Pretty bad."

Dylan shrugged, fingers tapping gently up Sung’s inner thigh. He was an evil man. “I wish we weren't on the tour bus- I might have some ideas.” Sung felt his stomach drop. Of course Dylan had ideas. “Excuse my language- but I think it would be fun to fuck the piss out of you.” Sung let out one of those choked sounds that wasn't quite a laugh or a gasp. His legs continued to shake, but now he was thinking about something else. Something that made another tingle fall into his stomach, a pleasant one. 

“I never thought I'd be one for the...messier fetishes, but you squirm like crazy, and if you already make such nice noises, I can only imagine how you'd sound then.” Sung was completely caught off guard, not expecting to enjoy any part of this. His eye, however, was blown wide, and his antennae looking shy and embarrassed. Dylan made sure to get closer, to whisper real quiet, but with a low tone that make Sung shudder. “Imagine the intensity of that, Gorgeous, how good that would feel. Every time I pushed it- pressure on your bladder. 

Dylan's hand found it's way up to his lower stomach, and he thought it harmless until there was a light pressure on his bladder. Gods...he didn't want to admit that it felt so good. “Dylan…” Sung was about to protest, but he realized he didn't want to, and he finally gave in, cupping his dick in his hands to physically hold himself together. He felt like he was going to burst. All the guys on the bus...they would wake up and they'd make fun of him for years! Still, he shuddered and whined when Dylan put more pressure on his bladder. This was playing with fire. “This isn't- I'm not...I'm going to make such a mess.”

Dylan laughed softly, grinning when Sung leaned against him. He was losing it. “Maybe I want you to.” Sung muffled a moan in Dylan's shoulder. His face was bright with blush. Even without admitting it, Dylan was vaguely aware that they had hit an unknown fetish right on the nose with this one. And there wasn't a rest stop for miles. It started setting in for Sung, that he wasn't going to make it. And Dylan pressed hard on his bladder. He couldn't keep his mouth shut this time. He couldn't believe that one of the feelings coming along with this was pleasure. It felt so awfully good…

“This is going to- oh Gods...we're ruining a body suit.” Dylan laughed to himself. More pressure. Sung didn't know what to do. “I can't stop it- I can't...not anymore I'm going to-" He couldn't bring himself to say it out loud, even quietly, but he felt helpless, like the seconds were ticking away. There was no turning back. “Dylan-" One of his hands moved to hold Dylan's shoulder tightly, his whole body shaking. “Dylan, Dylan, Dylan…” His grip tightened. “Oh shit- no…” He couldn't, not anymore, there was no stopping in 3, 2, 1. 

Leaking, he was quite literally leaking because his pipes were so full and Dylan had taken a liking to this, a liking to watching Sung break composure. A little moan, and his crotch was wet, his face steaming with embarrassment. “You're gonna let go, right?” Sung’s grip was almost painfully tight, and then his whole body was releasing, with no hope of stopping. It was warm, and not the most pleasant thing he had felt, but the release itself, the piss flooding out with no control, that feeling made him groan into Dylan's shoulder like there was no tomorrow. 

Dylan's face was flushed now too, watching the way Sung looked so completely helpless, wetness spreading in his suit until the pitter patter of piss hit the bus floor and Sung covered his mouth. “Oh Gods- Dylan, what are we going to do.” He whispered quietly, still not done releasing all the water he had drank and still having no ability to stop. His body would not let him. Dylan still pressed on his bladder regardless, listening to him moan as the final part trickled out. The poor guy looked mortified. The bus smelled faintly of pee (though thankfully it was mostly water) but also faintly of arousal. The bus stopped, Sung held his breath briefly. “How do we- oh my gods- this is ruined oh…”

Dylan snickered, not able to help himself, but he couldn't deny that seeing Sung in such a messy state was good. This was good. If they weren't on a bus. “Shh, calm down, we'll figure it out.” Meouch turned around when the bus pulled over and he saw Sung looking mortified, Dylan bright red and with a tinge of guilt. 

“Sung, did you just piss yourself on our bus?” Sung buried his face in his hands, burning with humility. The worst part was that he still couldn't shake how great it felt. And he knew he was sitting in his own mess. They were going to have to clean this up. Meouch’s question had woken up a few others, and Sung was ready to get yelled at until the bus broke out into laughter, everyone pulling their feet up to their seats and staring in Sung’s direction. 

“There goes a perfectly good suit, those things cost money you know.”

“I mean- I knew you and Dylan were up to some shit, but this? This takes the cake.” 

“Oh my Gods, Sung, are you alright?”

Sung sighed and slowly stood up, looking down and thinking of how the hell to clean this up. He shook one of his feet gently a frown on his face. “I think the light up shoes are out of commission, guys.”


	3. Make Me a Mess

After the turmoil that was cleaning a whole bus, Meouch suddenly stopped procrastinating getting the bathroom on the bus fixed up. Sung kept an unamused face on the whole day of maintenance, due to the fact that everyone else was smiling and making badly held back laugh noises every time they thought about the reason for the fix. Sung was 99% sure that the repair guys thought he was the one that broke if, but he couldn't stop himself from getting a little embarrassed about the real reason

Not even Dylan seemed to hold sympathy, snickering along and handing Sung a bottle of water from a cooler they had pulled out. “You want a drink, cool guy?” Sung grumpily grabbed the water from Dylan, cringing when the bottle dripped freezing water onto his leg. He still opened it and took a long, big sip, his antennae pinned back as he let out a big sigh. He felt embarrassed, and certainly a little bit of irritation came along with that, but memories of the event forced blood back into his cheeks. 

Stupid Dylan and his stupid smile. Dumbass Dylan and his stupid sexy face with that smug grin, Sung wanted to wipe it right off. He took another big gulp of water and Dylan leaned over his shoulder, opening his mouth to tease, make a jab that Sung shouldn't drink his water so fast. “Dylan- do not.” Sung shushed him and chugged the rest of the water down, throwing the bottle to the side and wiping his arm across his mouth. 

Of course Dylan only smiled wider. “I'll knock it off if you're actually angry-" Dylan leaned in a little closer, close enough to whisper, and Sung immediately felt the butterflies in his stomach. Dylan never failed to bring that feeling out. “But you do look cute all pissed off- ‘specially when I can tell you're embarrassed.” Dylan laughed when one of Sung’s antennae twitched and made a faint  _ bzzt _ sound, his face redder than before. 

“Alrighty, the bathroom is all fixed guys- you should be good!” 

A cheer ran through the bus, half a joke, but half an actual excitement. Despite the reasoning, they were all glad that they had a functional bathroom on the bus, especially when they had some long drives ahead of them. Dylan stood up and headed toward the bathroom, ready to be the first to try it out. Before he entered, however, he turned to Sung, smirk on his face. “Unless you want to do the honors?” Sung sighed heavier and grabbed another bottle of water, chugging more down as soon (almost out of spite) as he heard the door slam and Dylan disappeared.

-xxxxx-

Three bottles of water down and another round of Dylan teasing had Sung at the end of his rope, but he had managed to hide the increased water consumption quite well. The empty bottles were in the bag he had sitting next to him on his seat, and the one in his hand could have been mistaken for any of the previous bottles. He hoped everyone else ignored the smile on his face and the way he sat to alleviate the pressure of all the water in his stomach. It hadn't dropped yet, but every time Dylan tried to tease, Sung only got more smug. 

“Doc? Focused on something else?” Dylan elbowed him a little, and Sung realized he was supposed to be involved in the conversation. Dylan rested a hand on Sung’s shoulder, trying to guess what the alien had on his mind. Probably thinking about last week, still dwelling on the whole bus thing, he laughed to himself at that. 

Sung just shrugged, finishing off his water and making a point to crush it this time, as if it were the first one he finished. He was playing it a little  _ too cool.  _ He felt the water start to drop, and he knew it wouldn't be long. “What are we talking about?” Sung purposely sat closer to Dylan, leaning his head against the man and grinning. Dylan seemed puzzled by his overconfidence. 

“We might go out while we're still parked, find somewhere to sit or maybe a restaurant-" Sung blanked out after he heard that they would be leaving, nodding his head in encouragement and sitting up a little straighter. Sung rested a hand on Dylan's thigh and watched as the rest of the bus stood up, assuming they had made an agreement on where to go and what to look for. Sung couldn't care less. The water dropped now, it all really hit him and he kept his mouth shut, but he wanted to play it up. He would have played it up if the bus were empty. 

Dylan mindlessly followed the tail end of the crowd of band members getting off the bus, but Sung grabbed his wrist and held him behind, a smile on his face. He looked back at the bathroom and dragged Dylan towards the door, chuckling when everyone was finally off the bus but them. Sung walked a little strangely, his legs shaky and his antennae sticking up more, but he seemed happy with himself.

“Sung- are you trying to get me in the bathroom with you?” Sung laughed more, pulling Dylan into the bathroom and closing the door. He had a feeling no one was going to come back looking for them. They knew better by now. 

The bathroom wasn't huge, it was a tour bus bathroom, but it was big enough for Sung to push Dylan against one of the walls, pressing their lips together in a kiss that quickly turned into a mess. “You've been teasing all day, Dylan.” Sung had his legs crossed a little, and he bounced up and down mindlessly. He wasn't too close to losing it, but he wasn't far either. He chugged a lot of water for this purpose. “And now-" Sung shrugged, grabbing Dylan's arm and pulling it towards his stomach. Dylan knew this game. He rested a hand right where Sung wanted it, a dangerous pressure on his bladder. 

Sung whined quietly and Dylan looked like he had just struck gold. This wasn't going to end well. “You got all desperate and worked up for me?” Dylan acted honored, the fake sort of surprise that was seen when an already broken secret was let out. “Oh, you shouldn't have.” Dylan grinned, reaching down to start undressing, starting with his belt. Sung bit his lip and shuddered a little when Dylan bumped into him a little in the cramped space. “You did this to yourself, you know, can't blame me this time.” He threw his belt towards the door. 

Sung distracted Dylan with another kiss, slowly pushing them both down to the floor so that he could secure a comfortable spot in Dylan's lap. Sung did, however, get Dylan's shorts around his ankles first, knowing he would need easy access soon enough. He was breathless for a moment after he pulled away from the kiss. “Well, after what you said last time…” Sung pulled his own shirt up over his head and started fiddling with his sweatpants to get them off, not even noticing that Dylan had started working the buttons open on his shirt. “I think you have to own up a little bit for this.” Sung was wearing a jockstrap, and Dylan appreciated that. So much easy teasing accessibility. 

Sung still had some cocky left in him, but his voice got shakier with each sentence. Dylan rolled his eyes and let his shirt fall open, not even bothering to take it off. “I distinctly remember stating that we would  _ not _ be on the tour bus.” Dylan teased, hardening in his boxers nevertheless. “But whatever gets ya goin, kid.” Sung wanted to cross his arms and pout at that, but a wave of desperation wracked his body, and he clung onto Dylan for dear life. One thing Dylan couldn't deny- those whimper noises were priceless. 

Sung doubled over for a moment, antennae wavering until he came back to himself a little. The intensity wiped him out a little. “Shit- this isn't going to last long, maybe it wasn't a good-" Sung felt his head spin, eyes not quite able to focus on Dylan when he was distracted. “Oh no, this is going to be a mess all over a ah...a...again.” For Sung, a panic finally set in that he wasn't supposed to be doing this again, and he hoped that it was easy to clean up, and that he didn't need to do this on the bus again and-

“Oh no you don't-” Dylan pulled Sung in closer, kissing his neck for a moment and feeling him relax slightly. “You've got me intrigued now.” A gentle hand traced down Sung’s side, and while his legs were still shaky, he seemed to have himself together for now. When Dylan grabbed Sung’s ass, Sung’s breathing hitched and his antennae twitched again. The louder  _ bzzt _ sound they made brought a smile to Dylan's face. “Do you have shit hidden in here?” 

Sung bent back slightly, thankful that Dylan held onto him to keep him from falling back. He opened the little cabinet under the sink and pulled out lube that he had stashed there. Dylan always questioned the places that he found to hide shit, but he was impressed by the amount of thought that had to go into it. Sung grabbed a condom while he was there too, sitting back up and tearing it open with his teeth. He was reasonably rushing, but Dylan took both things from him and set them to the side. “Have some patience.” 

Dylan teased and held Sung in his lap. Sung gasped when his waistband was snapped against his skin. He was surprised he was keeping himself together so well. Maybe the first time had taught him something. “We have a- ah...oh…” Sung trailed off when Dylan was pressing against his bladder, just enough to distract him. “We have a bit of a- a time limit.” Sung’s eye closed and he hummed contently when the hand previously pressing his bladder instead felt his bulge through the front of his jock strap. He almost relaxed a little too much, let the floodgates open, but he tensed up again when Dylan's hand was back on his ass. 

Dylan was exceptionally good at distracting him so that he could be caught by surprise. One finger sliding in and he was already trying to split his focus between holding everything in and asking for more. A strangled sort of moan was all that came out. “How much did you drink, anyway?” Dylan seemed to possess the impeccable skill to pretend he didn't have a finger stuck up Sung’s ass while asking him questions. 

“I- at least three bottles?” Sung honestly lost count, as he had been stuffing them in his bag and grabbing more mindlessly. Dylan pressed on Sung’s bladder again and he leaned forward against Dylan, struggling when another finger fit in next to the first. When Dylan's fingers curved and hit just the right spot he thought he was going to lose it right then and there. “Dylan- fuck..ah- h...ha, Dylan!” Sung yelled the last one, dangerously close to the tipping point if Dylan didn't chill out. 

“Please-" Sung hadn't even meant for the word to fall from his mouth, but Dylan responded with the three fingers he needed, Sung’s lower half on fire while he tried to relax enough- not too much- not enough to lose it. “Dylan, please, do it.” Normally Dylan would have grinned- he would have pressed Sung further and told him to ask for it, to use the dirty words and all, but he knew they really didn't have time. Sung was looking rough. Sung wiggled in place and held himself through fabric when Dylan finally had the condom on. “Are you- are we...I might....ah- hnh- oh.” 

Dylan pulled Sung forward and groaned when Sung found his place, a little tighter than usual, a little tenser than usual. Sung was about to lose his shit. His hair was already messed up, and his whole body was shaky. He couldn't keep still, even fully seated on Dylan's cock and having to permission to let go. He wanted to feel it a little more. Dylan could see the effort he was putting into it. “Jesus Christ, baby, you're on a mission.” Sung’s eye opened half way, his expression genuinely desperate. “Don't let me stop you.”

Sung moved a little, just a slight roll of the hips and he was seeing stars. Dylan's hands found a way to hold Sung up, and his legs moved away as far as they could in the cramped space to give Sung room. He found a little rhythm, biting his lip and trying his best, but Dylan soon had to help out. Sung was sitting up while Dylan helped him move up and down, every time more pressure driving him crazy. He could feel an indirect press on his bladder from the inside, and everything was a little more intense. 

He didn't know how much control he had left, but he was attempting to make the most of it. His hands were covering his face, but he gave it his all with his hips, down...and down...and back down. His words came out panicked. “I can't- too much…” Dylan tried his best to get in a position that let Sung do less work, thrusting upward gently and watching Sung’s mouth fall open. “Mess- you...your shirt, I'm going to oh...ah- shit.” Sung felt himself letting go, and every whine he couldn't hold back made Dylan go harder. 

Dylan was sweating by now, holding Sung up and making so much effort in the cramped space they had, but he couldn't stop until Sung finally gave out. The only thing holding Sung back now was embarrassment welling up in him. “I shouldn't- the fucking- toilet is right there you- I'm...gonna be all over you...such a mess.” Sung felt something that was almost pain, the press on his bladder getting incessant. “I'm- fuck...I shouldn't ah- oh...mmf-” 

Dylan was losing it himself while Sung tried to string his words together, getting off on the desperate tone of his voice that he didn't normally get to hear. “Can't hold it anymore?” Dylan still managed to tease, and he could see Sung leaking steadily through thin fabric, non stop whines filling the room. “Then make me one hell of a mess to clean up.” Dylan swore he was salivating a little at the way that Sung lost all control, he couldn't help himself. 

“Dylan- Dylan...Dylan- ah...oh-AH!” Sung borderline shouted when the pressure on his bladder couldn't hold any longer, antennae bouncing outward, a loud  _ BZZT _ and a showy light flicker accompanying the rush of warmth in the front of his jockstrap. It was soaked through in a second flat. Sung hadn't even noticed that Dylan came in the same second flat watching him make his mess. He watched, breathless as Sung shook even through the release, chest heaving a little while the rush took him over. He couldn't tell how long it had been, he hadn't noticed the puddle they ended up sitting in, but he sure did moan and play up the moment enough that Dylan was staring, wondering if it would ever end. 

Sung was covering his face now, knowing that he'd soaked through Dylan's boxers and probably made it to the bottom of his button up. His antennae were still strung out, buzzing enough to make Dylan laugh. Sung couldn't shake the fact that he was pissing himself all over Dylan, that this wasn't just a mess of himself but a mess of them both. He finally parted his hands enough to look at Dylan, moaning a little too loud when a suprise final rush flew out of him. He had to have been going for- “Was that a straight minute? Holy shit!” Dylan looked at the mess around them, then back at Sung. “You really outdid yourself.”

“I- uh...I mean-" Sung was speechless, and he felt on edge still, sensitive to the point of tears until- “Dylan!” He came with a shout almost as soon as Dylan pulled his waistband out of the way and grabbed his dick, not expecting more pleasure to wash over him. He hadn't even put two and two together that the situation had gotten him so hot and bothered. Dylan looked even more amazed. He even wiped some sweat off of his forehead to add to the mess. 

“Well, you sure made that mess I asked for.” Dylan laughed, putting his hand on the floor next to them and finding it laying in piss. Still warm. His eyes closed and he sighed. Sung’s face went red and he looked for a towel, something, somewhere. There wasn't a shower in here. Toilet paper wasn't going to help them here. 

“Oh God, I'm so sorry.” Sung looked up at Dylan with shame in his eyes, and then at the pocket in his shirt. His phone was there. Precariously hanging over a warm, wet, and awful death. “Dylan- don't freak out.” Sung cautioned, lifting his hands up. 

“Don't f- we're sitting in your-" Before Dylan could finish, sung was drying his hands on the left side of Dylan's shirt, reaching for the phone on the right. Dylan watched as Sung held his phone above the mess they had made, scrolling through the contacts to find someone to call. “Oh my god, you are lucky I didn't take that out of my pocket-” Meouch...he wouldn't ask questions. He dialed and held the phone to his ear. 

“H-hey, buddy, could you-”

“What did you do?” 

“I need towels, I...lots of them, bus bathroom, do not look in.” 

“What the hell- towels we can wash or towels to-"

“You're not going to want them back.”

“Give me five minutes.”

The call ended and Sung almost put the phone down, stopping dead in his tracks before setting it on the counter by the sink. Dylan slowly helped him move from his seated position. He sat next to Dylan, in his own mess, laughing at himself. Dylan stared at the door, waiting for their savior to deliver towels. He couldn't help but laugh too, knowing how awful this was going to feel to stand up out of. “You're downright nasty, Sung.” Dylan kissed him on the cheek, a smile still on his face.

  
Sung went to defend himself, opening his mouth until Dylan broke out into laughter again.  _ “I love it.” _


End file.
